Red Tide
by teacuppig
Summary: "I'll get you out of there alive Annie, I promise," "How can you be so sure?" she asks, moving her eyes to meet his intense sea-green ones. "Because I love you, and I won't let them take you away." Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta; from start to finish.
1. Chapter 1

On a normal summer day in District 4, Annie Cresta sits idly on a large rock on the beach, her back turned towards the sun. It was a beautiful morning; sand already warmed from the sun, waves pushing softly against the shore.

Her family had arose earlier to pull in the days fishing hull, and with the weather, the work was done at a rapid pace. Now she had the rest of the day to relax on the beach or at the market until dinner that evening. Arching her back slightly, Annie sighs and looks at the seagulls above her; swooping dangerously close to the ocean waves, then flying higher, higher, higher, until the sun's glare blocks them from her vision. _They're so free, _she thinks. _They don't even know what it's like to be restrained._

She closes her eyes again, enjoying the peace for a few moments. It's much too early to allow her worries to surface again; Reaping day is approaching quickly, next week if Annie's mental calendar is correct.

She listens closely, trying to pay attention to the sound of the waves further in the sea, where boats can only go so far until the legal fishing zone is passed. Sometimes Annie wants to go farther, but she knows that it's only there for their protection…

Suddenly, she hears the faint sound of shifting sand, and the red glaze beneath her eyelids becomes black as something blocks out the sun.

"You could be a statue," a boy's voice says, "you're so still."

Annie cracks one eye open. Finnick Odair, a boy no younger than thirteen who was once in her History class, stands in front of her, watching her curiously. She has never spoken to Finnick, though she must be the only one, he is handsome and confident, but in her opinion, slightly arrogant.

"Finnick," he says as an introduction, extending his hand to shake hers.

She looks down at his hand, but doesn't reach for it. Instead she smiles gently and says, "I know who you are, we had class together. But in case you didn't know that, I'm Annie."

"Annie," he repeats, "that's a pretty name." He says this with a smile that makes Annie's cheeks heat up, but she assumes that the compliment is to make up for his initial inability to remember her name.

"So Annie," he says slowly, still testing out the name on his lips, "may I ask why you're here? I didn't know anyone else knew about this part of the beach."

Annie isn't surprised; she has to pass through several moss covered pieces of forest to get here, and the other side of the place is shielded by a steep cliff. No one in District 4 is naïve enough to play around up there.

She shrugs. "My father showed me it when I was little, before he passed away in a boating accident." And then she feels bad, because normally when you first meet someone, you don't force such a personal fact upon them.

But Finnick only stares at her face, nodding sadly. "I'm sorry," he says. "It's a horrible thing to happen: losing someone you love."

By the look on his face, he's experienced something similar, but Annie knows better than to ask. She doesn't like to talk about her father's death either.

"I have to go," she says suddenly, "I mean, I need to get back to my family. I'll see you around Finnick."

She smiles at him, and he returns it, though his looks a little confused. And then she hurries off, before he can respond to her hasty goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N): Hey! This is the second chapter, and I thought I'd tell you a little more about the story: This is my first FanFiction writing, and though I'm a little shaky with formatting and the plot; I'm really enjoying it! I plan on writing A LOT of chapters (going until a little after Annie's games?) but if readers aren't enjoying it all that much, it'll be more of a one-shot. Please remember: Positive comments and constructive criticism are ALWAYS WELCOME! I will try to personally thank everyone who reviews!**

**Xoxo~teacuppig**

Two days later Annie is sitting on the pier with her friends, Mya and Eleanor, dangling their feet over the edge.

"You really ought to calm down Annie," Mya began. "Your name will be in the bowl, what? Like three times?"

They had been discussing the upcoming Reaping; expressing their fears (Annie's in particular), and placing bets on what type of surgically enhanced body parts their district escort would be sporting this year.

Eleanor pipes in, "She's right Ann, and I heard that some of the careers have turned eighteen, so even if you do get picked, they'll volunteer."

Annie nods her head, and the friends come to a comfortable silence.

The pier is one of Annie's favorite places in District 4. It's alive and energetic here, and would be considered beautiful if not for the ever-present smell of fish and the sounds of merchants shouting out their deals. Children chase each other up and down the pier, and an elder man grumbles as they almost knock him off his feet, shouting apologies over their shoulders.

"Hey! Hey Annie!" someone calls to her through the crowd. It's Finnick, smiling brilliantly and waving at her.

Annie looks around, wondering if he is speaking to someone else, but he is still moving towards her. She shoots Eleanor and Mya a look; their eyebrows are sky high. Shrugging at them, she gets up and walks over to meet him.

"Finnick?"

"Hey, I was wondering when I'd see you again."

"Well, here I am."

"Right." He pauses. "I was wondering, if you aren't busy, if you'd come with me to a quarry I found by the cliff. You know, the one by the beach I found you on."

Annie looks up at his excited face, and raises her eyebrows incredulously. "You want _me _to come?"

Now it's Finnick's turn to look confused. "Well who else would I ask?" he says, smiling, as if the answer is obvious. "That beach is kind of our secret right?"

Annie nods, still not sure if he is joking, though he looks kind and genuine. When he asks her again if she will go with him, she looks nonchalantly to her friends; wordlessly asking if it's alright for her to leave them. Eleanor is still gazing, awestruck, at Finnick, incapable of communication, but Mya nods her head vigorously, encouragingly.

"I'd love to," she responds to Finnick, and he begins to lead her through the crowd to the end of the pier, where the structure meets land.

They walk about a mile through the town, passing the huge hill on which the Victors' Village rests, until Finnick guides her down a narrow path, surrounded on both sides by lush, colorful forest.

Annie recognizes it as the forest that lies nestled beside the cliff, and though she's seen it from afar, being here with Finnick is like discovering a whole new world.

"Almost there," Finnick assures her. She's breathing heavily with the effort put into the hike, but Finnick struts easily through the trees and over their outstretched roots. "This. This is it."

Annie looks up as he motions his hand forward. She lets out a gasp of surprise, eyes shining with wonder. Before her, in a big clearing, a narrow waterfall races down the side of the cliff, forming the quarry at the bottom. The smooth rocks that pile against it are blanketed by green mosses, and a variety of other types of flowers and ferns adorn the edges of the water. She's never seen anything like it, but she's been missing out, because this place is a paradise.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, "like it's out of a story book."

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Finnick says, though he's looking at Annie.

Suddenly Annie gets a mischievous twinkle in her eye, as she notices a large pile of boulders stacked neatly at the deep end of the quarry. "Come on," she says to Finnick "I want to try something."

He doesn't question her as she begins to climb the pile, he only follows behind her, higher and higher, until she stands, balancing herself on the top rock. Looking down, Annie can see the water, dark blue with the depth, with a frothy white layer on top where the waterfall churns it.

She pulls off her light jacket and tosses it aside, along with her inhibitions. The gentle breeze makes the skin on her arms tingle; though the rest of her torso is covered with a blue tank top. Swinging her arms slightly as her sides, she prepares to jump.

"You're crazy," Finnick chuckles, though he's pulling his white t-shirt off, exposing his tanned and toned upper body, "but I like your guts."

Annie jumps first, extending her arms to get the full effect of the air resistance. She plunges into the water, feet almost touching the bottom of the pool, where the water is cool and still. When she resurfaces, Finnick has already jumped, fearless as she is, and his head and shoulders spring out of the water after the initial dive. They take a minute to recover, shaking the water out of their hair and catching their breaths, before Annie begins to float on her back, and Finnick treads water.

Annie studies him out of the corner of her eye. She's never noticed that really, his hair is neither blonde nor brown, but a beaming shade of bronze. She's also never noticed that his eyes are a turbulent green; the color of the horizon line where the sky and the ocean meet.

"I like you, Annie Cresta." He says out of nowhere. Their eyes meet and she smiles.

"You've only known me for a few days," she says.

He shrugs. "Doesn't matter," he replies, grinning back at her.

Annie feels like she is jumping from the rocks again, suspended for one moment, in the air. Free and careless, she says to him without hesitation, "Then I like you too Finnick Odair."


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N): Third Chapter! Sadly, Reaping day has snuck up on Annie and Finnick, what will it mean for their friendship? Their Future? **

**Thanks! To:**

**dorrah: For your gracious comment! Feedback, like yours, influences me to put effort into my writing, something I'll need if I'm going to write such a lengthy story.**

**~teacuppig**

"You'll be alright darling," Mrs. Cresta soothes as she ties the white ribbon on the back of Annie's Reaping dress. "You've done this before, just be brave and remember your posture."

At this comment, Annie straightens her back and squares her shoulders, giving a weak smile to her reflection in the mirror. In a half hour, she and her mother will need to be accounted for at the town square, in front of the ancient Justice Building. If not, they will be severely punished; the Peacekeepers are strict and abundant in District 4. To arrive late is never to arrive at all.

Annie studies herself in the mirror while her mother hurries off to ready herself. The knee-length green dress Annie is wearing accents the slight curves she has already at age thirteen, and her dark brown hair cascades down her back in their usual waves. Overall, she looks beautiful, but feels as though she is buried, suffocating, under a pile of stones.

All too soon, her mother is ready, wearing in a plain white dress, and they make their way to the Reaping. Annie tries not to look too frightened and nervous, as she doesn't want anyone to take her for a weakling if she is chosen. Their district escort this year, Rita Margo, already stands on the large stage set up in the square, balancing precariously on a tall pair of shiny heels.

After several more minutes, the entire District 4 is waiting anxiously to see whose child, whose friend, whose life will be whisked away to the Capitol, and fight to the death in the Hunger Games. The mayor has just finished his speech, same as every past year, which defines the necessity of the games, of how the districts have supposedly brought this curse upon themselves. From where she stands, Annie can see the glint of bronze hair on a tall figure. Finnick. He stands amongst the other fourteen year old boys, wearing a crisp white dress shirt and khaki pants. He listens to the end of the speech with aggravation shown plainly on his face.

Over the last few days, Annie has found herself spending more and more time with Finnick; bumping into each other at the pier, swimming at their secret beach. They've become great friends, but at the worst time possible, because now Rita is waddling over to the glass bowls that contain the names of the children who will be reaped.

"Let's do our ladies first, shall we?" she trills.

Reaching a dainty hand into the first bowl, she pulls out a single folded slip of paper, and holds it up to her face dramatically. Annie's heart pounds and she's sure that if she does get called, they'll have to drag her unconscious body to the stage.

"Sharla Ramer."

A large girl with tanned skin steps through the crowd from the seventeen's section, making her way with purposeful strides. An old woman who clutches the hand of a little boy begins to sob silently. Her family.

And though Annie is relieved that she was not chosen, she knows that the girl standing on stage had friends, had dreams, maybe she even had a lover, and that makes Annie's heart swell with sympathy.

Rita ushers Sharla along, placing her in an awkward spot between the middle and the edge of the stage. Then Rita clears her throat and reaches a hand into the second bowl.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your male tribute for District 4 is…" she pulls out a name, and has almost read it at loud when she unceremoniously drops it. Annie giggles a little, and Rita picks it up and unfolds it. "Finnick Odair!" she screeches.

The smile is wiped off Annie's face as the beautiful boy walks confidently to the stage, cocky as ever. Several girls in the crowd gasp, and others murmur unhappily. He stands tall on the stage and looks out to the crowd. His and Annie's eyes meet, and he gives her a sad smile, just a twitch in the corners of his mouth.

_Finnick? Impossible. _Annie thinks. Just yesterday they were lounging on the sand, him reassuring her of the miniscule chance that either of them would get picked. But there he is, smirking at the audience flirtatiously.

"My, my," Rita breathes, running her eyes up and down Finnick's body. Then she regains focus, and calls out in her normal cheery voice, "District 4, your tributes of the 65th Annual Hunger Games!"

**(A/N): Yes, yes, it's a short chapter, I know. But I needed it to end here, because the next chapter will be third-person-Finnick's-POV! I will alternate between him and Annie, as both of their thoughts and emotions are important in understanding the story. **


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N): As I mentioned in the end of Chapter 3, this chapter will be giving you a look at Finnick's point of view. Thanks to all of you who added my story to your alert or favorites list, and special thanks to cherrypieblues for your comment!**

**Xoxo ~teacuppig**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the plot or characters of from the Hunger Games Trilogy. All rights belong to Suzanne Collins.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap. _The clicking of Finnick's shoes clapping together calms his racing mind. He sits anxiously on an exquisite velvet couch, in the room where his friends and family would be visiting him to say their goodbyes. Then, he would be carted off to the capitol, and prepared and displayed for slaughter. Or murder. Either way, Finnick Odair would be gone.

On stage, he had thought it would be in his best interests to smile confidently and pretend everything was fine. Now, in the shelter of the Justice Building, his facial expression remains blank, while a violent war of emotions played out in his head; anger, confusion, fear, and helplessness as some of the biggest competitors.

Finnick's head snaps up as the door creaks open. It's his father, not who he was hoping for, but still, Finnick is grateful for a familiar face. The two of them have not held a steady relationship in quite some time though, not since the death of Finnick's mother.

"Son," Mr. Odair says gruffly, lingering awkwardly by the door. He then pauses a minute, staying silent.

"Dad," Finnick replies, though his tone is clear and calculating. "They'll only give you a minute to be in here, and this may be the last time you see me. Don't you have anything to say?"

Mr. Odair purses his lips, then strides quickly to Finnick and pulls him into an embrace. They are both rigid and reluctant, but the moment is real, and tears pool in Finnick's eyes until he blinks them away rapidly.

His father is the first to let go. He looks at Finnick one last time, mutters a quick "good luck", and then he is gone.

Several of Finnick's friends come to visit as well. They speak to him as if he is already a thing of the past, and make his heart sink with their teary-eyed farewells. No one believes he has a chance at winning; and he is starting to believe it himself.

That is, until the door opens one more time, and Annie Cresta, looking as beautiful as she did at the beginning of the Reaping, steps in the room quietly.

_She came, _Finnick thinks. So their few days of friendship _had _meant something to her.

Annie offers him a shy smile, and sits on an armchair across from the couch.

"Annie," he starts, "if I don't come back, I…" She cuts him off with a sharp glance. He blinks, startled. Never has he seen Annie look so determined, not even as she took the first jump off of the rocks at the quarry.

"Finnick," she speaks sternly, "I didn't come here to let you accept your own death sentence. You might as well be handing yourself over to the Capitol if you've already given up on the games."

She's right, Finnick knows that, but he still didn't see how he could possibly come home alive. Still, he keeps quiet and listens to her; afraid that she'll leave if he interrupts.

"I _know _you can use a trident well," she says. "Spears may not be much different. Just do something; anything, just try to come home. Please." She whispers the last part, and that's when Finnick looks up at her, and notices a few tears leaking from her bright green eyes.

"Hey," he says gently, "Annie it's okay. I-I'll do everything I can to win. I promise. And when I get back, we'll go to the beach and celebrate."

Annie laughs softly, and wipes her tears away. "That sounds nice. Okay Finnick, it's a deal."

He smiles at her, and then a Peacekeeper walks in, looking bored, and says, "Your time's up. Let's go."

Annie stands, and Finnick stands with her; not yet ready to let her go but clueless as to what to say next. Fortunately, Annie does, so she takes his hand in hers, gives it a light squeeze, and says, "I'll be waiting for you to come back," before the Peacekeeper loses his patience and drags her out of the room.

Speechless, Finnick sits back down on the couch. Everyone else had given him words of condolence, as if they were already mourning his death. But Annie had given him something different entirely. Annie, with her glowing personality and her eyes as deep as the ocean itself, had given Finnick hope.

**Thanks for reading Chapter 4 (already!). I've been contemplating the next few chapters lately; write through the games or not? So I've decided to ask for my wonderful readers' opinions! Please, please, please, review and tell me your thoughts. I am completely lost as to where to go next with the story (that's why the chapters are so short).**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N): Hello. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated…you can blame it on end of the year tests and projects. But all this time away has given me a chance to think about the future of Red Tide, and with the helpful comment from dorrah, I'm hoping you'll enjoy the way I've written this chapter.**

**~teacuppig**

Twelve days. Nearly two weeks. That's how long it took Finnick Odair, tribute from District 4, to rise as the victor of the 65th annual Hunger Games. Now, after the hovercraft had pulled him out of the arena, covered in mud, sweat, and injuries, he wonders if he would have been better off dead.

He had killed in cold blood; there was no way to sugarcoat it. And though he hides it well, each dead tribute had left a searing scar on his heart. Most painful of all, every time Finnick had killed, he thought of Annie Cresta. Annie, shaking her head in pity and disgust as he speared a tribute in the neck. Annie, begging him to stop as he smiled viciously at a young boy caught in a net. Yes, she had given Finnick hope, but she had also given him an incentive; an incentive that lead him to take lives with cruelty and malice.

"Almost home," his mentor, an almost eighty year old woman named Mags, says, patting his knee reassuringly. Mags's speech is slightly garbled. She had, after all, just recently recovered from a stroke.

Finnick nods and slouches deeper into his chair, resting his head against the tinted window of the hovercraft. His thoughts are immediately filled with comforting memories of District 4; lounging on the beach with Annie, fishing at a secluded area near the pier, the few moments of happiness with his father. He wonders if anyone will be there to see him when he arrives. As a victor, he is dangerous and unattainable. Will his many admirers recognize these new traits and finally leave him alone?

After a few more minutes, the hovercraft lands with a jolt, waking him from his ponderings. "Time to go," Mags mumbles, as Finnick takes several tentative steps to the already opened door. "Just smile and wave, just like in the Capitol."

_But it's not at all like the Capitol_, Finnick wants to point out. District 4 was his home, and the people there like you because of your character and kindness, not on how much blood was on your hands. Nevertheless, he walks out of the hovercraft and onto the grounds of his district with the grace and ease of a victor.

It seems like all of Panem has shown up, there are so many people. Finnick recovers from his shock quickly though, and grins at his audience, as Mags had told him to. He scans the crowd, skimming his eyes over the mass of people until his heart sinks with disappointment. Neither Annie nor his father has come; they're probably as sickened by him as he was.

He begins to walk through the crowd, towards the car that would take him to his new house in the Victors' Village. Suddenly Finnick hears a few people in the back of the group yelp, and he turns his head in their direction. And there she is, Annie Cresta herself, pushing her way impatiently past other spectators. She is tiny and young compared to the adults in the crowd, but to Finnick, her eyes look weary and ancient, though still beautiful.

"Sorry!" she exclaims when she shoves past a particularly grumpy looking man. "I'm sorry, that's my friend up there."

Finnick's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he stands still and silent as she strides over to him. _How could she still want to know me? After everything she's seen, after everything I've done? _He thinks.

She moves her eyes to his, and smiles warmly. Finnick tries to smile back; one of his "everything's-just-fine smiles, but it ends up looking more like a confused grimace.

Still, Annie comes forward, tripping over one last spectator and landing in Finnick's arms. Smiling still, she wraps her arms around him, and maybe he would have returned the embrace, if he was not so afraid to have her too close to him. He stands stiffly as she pulls back and squeezes his arms. He is too wary; the Games are still fresh in his mind, and he would never forgive himself if he hurt Annie in one of his panic attacks.

"Hey," she says concernedly. He blinks at her, but does not respond. He hasn't spoken to anyone since he was crowned victor; other than Caesar Flickerman in his interviews and occasionally Mags.

At the moment, he is slightly aware that the crowd has dispersed, leaving he and Annie alone in front of the hovercraft, where an attendant is helping Mags carry her luggage to the car.

"Finnick," Annie tries again, "you came back. I-I was so scared…for you, I mean." She rambles on, tears pooling softly in her eyes. "I just…well, I'm really glad your home."

She looks at Finnick expectantly, but then the driver of his ride to the Victors' Village honks the horn; signaling Finnick to get in.

He frowns, not ready to leave Annie quite yet. There are still many things he needs to say; that he _wants _to say, so he takes her arm and gently pulls her to the car. She doesn't object, and soon they are both sitting in the spacious vehicle, where Mags is waiting patiently.

And as they move towards his new home, his new life, Finnick can only focus on Annie's hand, small and soft, entwined tightly with his.


End file.
